Dancing With Dragons
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Fleur was a beautiful girl, and Bill had a lot of brothers. It was only inevitable that one of those brothers might find themselves attracted to her.
1. Secrets of Shell Cottage

**Word Count:** 1,157  
 **Written For:  
** \- The First Kiss Competition  
\- Diagon Alley: Quidditch Through the Ages Event (Chapter One: Evolution of the Flying Broomstick) Prompts: (Dialogue) Tell me what you want me to do.

* * *

 _ **Chapter One  
** **Secrets of Shell Cottage**_

What happened between them was never meant to happen. The truth was, they were just two souls on different, intertwining paths—but fate had something else in store for them. Fate had plans to send their paths twisting and spiralling into a whole new future that they could never imagine.

A bond between two brothers was so strong; forged out of heavy iron chains and gunmetal. The chains had been locked tight and the key cast away so that nothing, no-one could ever come between them. The words that the priest read out during the wedding ceremony spilled like a shimmering liquid from his lips, but moulded into silver manacles, connecting the two souls until death they should part. Only the worst of sins could unlock those hand-crafted cuffs.

But the strength of the shackles and chains melted into jelly in that tiny little cupboard, where two sides of a different bond found themselves during the birthday party for one William Arthur Weasley.

Fleur had been searching for more candles, and Charlie just happened to be walking by on his way to the downstairs toilet. He peered inside the cupboard, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the sight of Fleur. She was stretching on her tiptoes with her arms above her head, as she reached for a plastic box on the top shelf. Her pleated lavender circle skirt was riding up her narrow waist, exposing the hem of her underwear and the perky dimples of her bottom.

Charlie cleared his throat loudly, remembering that this was his big brother's wife, and stepped inside the cupboard. "Do you want me to get that for you?" he asked politely, as Fleur spun around and began pulling her skirt back down to her hips, a pink blush staining her nose and cheeks. She forced a grateful smile as Charlie reached up for the box she had been trying to retrieve.

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. Charlie was wearing a sleeveless Weird Sisters shirt, and his muscular arms flexed as he stretched. She noticed a sliver of red hair under his armpits and poking out of the low neck of his vest. Her face flushed even more.

"I've told you, the bathroom's over this way!" a familiar voice called from outside. It was Ron, thundering along the hallway. The murmured sighing from behind him suggested that Hermione was on his tail. He bustled past the cupboard beneath the stairs, and slammed the cupboard door shut as he walked past—locking both Charlie and Fleur in the cupboard and plunging them into darkness.

"Oh," Fleur muttered. _"Merde."_

"It's okay," Charlie replied. "I'll get the door." He reached for the handle, only to discover moments later that there was no handle. The cupboard under the stairs could only be opened from the outside. "Do you have your wand?" he asked through the darkness.

 _"Non,"_ Fleur answered. "I did not bring 'eet into 'ze cupboard with me. Do you not 'ave yours?"

Charlie cursed himself inwardly for being so careless. "I left it at the Burrow." He heard Fleur slump back into the wall.

"Well, 'eet looks like we are 'ere until someone opens 'zat door."

Charlie shifted around the cupboard until he thought he was in a safe place to lean, and fell back into the wall. His bare arm made contact with Fleur's, and he was sure he felt electricity coursing between their skin. Gooseflesh rose on his biceps, and he thanked Merlin that it was dark so that she couldn't see his blush.

"You really shouldn't do 'zat, you know," Fleur spoke suddenly. Charlie turned his head in the direction of her voice.

"Do what?"

"I 'ave seen the way you look at me, Charlie," she said softly. "'Eet is not right. I am married...to your brother."

Charlie remained silent for a few moments before replying. "You have no room to talk," he whispered.

"I do not understand."

"Yes you do," Charlie leaned in a little closer to Fleur, until he felt her hair brushing against his nose. "I've seen the way you look at me too." He could almost feel the heat radiating from her face. She didn't reply, and all Charlie could hear was her fast-paced, shallow breathing. "Tell me what you want me to do, Fleur."

"Just do something," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Charlie didn't waste any time; he knew if he waited he would regret what he was about to do. He grasped her face between his hands and pulled her mouth into his, capturing her lips in a possessive kiss.

Every cliché little thing that was supposed to happen, happened. Rockets exploded into vibrant orange fireworks behind their eyes; electricity sparked almost painfully where their lips and tongues met; and the chains that bound them to Bill began to slowly slacken. This was just the start.

Fleur wound her arms around his neck and balled her hands in his hair desperately, pouring her heart and soul straight into his mouth. He allowed his arms to fall to her lower back, and his fingers grasped the hem of her skirt, pulling it up over her backside.

She attacked his neck with kisses, nibbling delicately along his collarbone, and Charlie rolled his head back against the wall, sucking his breath in through his teeth. She dropped down his body, her hands pushing up his shirt and grazing his abs with her fingernails. Charlie raked his hand through her hair as she reached the waistband of his jeans. Through the darkness, he could see her pale blue eyes glittering. She slowly started to unbuckle his belt, and Charlie covered her hands with his.

"Fleur," he whispered. There were footsteps in the hallway outside.

She jumped to her feet so quickly that she banged her head against his chin, and his teeth slammed together painfully. Before he could groan in pain, the door swung open, and light streamed inside the cupboard. They sprang apart, Fleur grabbing hold of the nearest object.

"What's going on?" a voice asked, and as Fleur's eyes adjusted to the light, she realised it was Bill.

"Birthday candles," Fleur gasped, looking into the palm of her hand. The item she had snatched up was a packet of candles. "Charlie was..."

"I was helping her get the candles down," Charlie continued, scratching the back of his dishevelled head. "Then Ron went past and shut the bloody door."

There was a momentary silence, and then Bill laughed loudly. "Oh, dear Merlin. Well, come on out—Mum has been waiting to bring out her cake, and I'm dying to see it!" He scurried off, leaving the door wide open. When he was out of sight, Charlie turned back to Fleur.

"We can see each other now," he murmured.

"So 'eet didn't happen," she replied quietly. "What 'appens in the dark, stays in the dark."


	2. Memory

**Word Count:** 1,752 **  
** **Written For:  
** \- The 'You Picked Me' Challenge, prompt: "...And the strong coffee warming up my fingers."  
\- Diagon Alley: Quidditch Through the Ages Event (Chapter Two: Ancient Broom Games) Prompts: (Dialogue) "I want you." (word/location) Hogwarts

* * *

 _ **Chapter**_ _ **Two  
**_ _ **Memory**_

Fleur's fingers grasped the steaming mug of hot black coffee as she stared into its murky depths. Mrs Weasley bustled jovially into the living room of the Burrow, carrying a platter of fruit cake. "This is a lovely surprise, Fleur," she exclaimed, placing the tray down on the coffee table and slumping into the armchair opposite. "It's not often we see you around here—without Bill, of course."

Fleur smiled into her coffee. Bill was working in London today, leaving Fleur home alone at Shell Cottage. Without any kind of distraction to prevent her from thinking about how she had almost cheated on her husband with his brother just a week before, Fleur knew she needed to get out of the house. The Burrow was her only option, having no other family in England.

"'Ow 'ave you been?" Fleur asked, before taking a grateful sip from her mug. "'Eet seems quiet around 'ere nowadays."

"Oh, yes," Molly replied through a yawn. "Very quiet. Ever since Ron left to live with Hermione, and of course Ginny has moved in with Harry. When no one else is around and Arthur's at work—well, it's just me rattling around here like a bubble in a can." Molly rested her chin on her palm and sighed sadly, her eyes drooping. She looked drained. Fleur gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I'll come up and see you more often," she promised, and Molly gave her a tired grin.

"You should, dear."

Fleur took another long drink of her coffee and inhaled the strong fumes before speaking. "I imagine 'eet is also quiet now 'zat Charlie 'as gone back to Romania, no?" Her heart fluttered as Charlie's name left her lips.

"Not quite," a different, deeper voice sounded from behind her. Fleur almost dropped the remainder of her beverage onto the carpet in shock. It was Charlie. He walked through into the living room and smirked at Fleur. "How nice of you to drop by, Miss Delacour."

Fleur glanced over at Mrs Weasley, but realised that the older woman had dropped to sleep on the arm of her chair, and was snoring softly. She turned her attention to Charlie. "You know Delacour is not my name anymore," she told him haughtily. Charlie leaned against the arm of the couch she was sitting in and raked a hand through his hair.

"I know, but it sounds better than Weasley." He looked over at Mrs Weasley, and lowered his voice. "Mum is exhausted," he stated idly. "Dad was ill all night, so she stayed up half the night looking after him."

Fleur pursed her lips tightly, and climbed to her feet. "Molly is tired, so I suppose I will be leaving now." She made to brush past Charlie, but he held up his hand to stop her. His eyes drifted down to the dress she was wearing; a periwinkle chiffon number with a tight bodice and floaty, long skirts.

"What a pretty shade of blue," he commented, his eyes meeting hers.

"What is your point?" Fleur demanded to know, folding her arms across her chest impatiently.

"You were wearing blue just like that on the day I met you."

oOo

 _Charlie was standing in a tent at the side of the Triwizard Tournament arena, along with three other dragon experts who had travelled to Hogwarts from Romania with him. The Common Welsh Green had moments ago been led out into the arena, and it was already defending the golden egg. Of all the dragons and their opponents, Charlie was most eager to see this match_ — _he had heard that the only female contestant would be facing his favourite dragon._

 _Cedric Diggory had already tackled the Swedish Short-Snout impressively, by transfiguring a rock into a dog to distract the dragon. Charlie hadn't entirely expected it to work, but he had been proved wrong. Charlie had no doubts that Krum would effortlessly sweep past the Chinese Fireball, though he expected that the Durmstrang student would likely cause some problems. Of course, Charlie was rooting for Harry Potter, who would be facing the Hungarian Horntail; the match that everyone seemed the most eager to see._

 _But Charlie was only interested in Fleur and the Common Welsh Green. He didn't want to appear sexist, but he was almost positive that a girl would be no match against the dragon._

 _Her name was called out through the cheering crowds, and Charlie folded his arms across his chest and peered into the arena as Fleur Delacour stepped out of the champion's tent at the other end of the pitch._

 _She was just a thin, pale young blonde, who Charlie would probably mistake for a fifteen-year old if he didn't already know that she was seventeen. Instead of wearing appropriate robes like the other contestants were, she was wearing what appeared to be Beauxbaton's Quidditch robes, complete with a pleated skirt and a long blue cloak. However, despite her demure appearance, she marched onto the arena with a hardened expression, gripping her wand firmly in her right hand. Charlie wondered if he was about to be surprised._

oOo

"Eet's my favourite colour, what is your problem?" Fleur persisted. She felt vulnerable, as though she was being scrutinized by a hungry dragon. She'd only had that feeling once before—when she was facing the Common Welsh Green during the Triwizard Tournament.

"The Triwizard Tournament," Charlie said suddenly, as though he had read her mind. "I brought the dragons to Hogwarts from Romania."

"Of course," replied Fleur, the slight hint of emotion seeping through her stiff exterior. "'Owever, 'zat is not the first time 'zat I properly met _you_."

oOo

 _Fleur was spending a week at the Burrow, just a few weeks since she and Bill had begun officially dating. He had been called over to Egypt on a curse-breaking job, and Mrs Weasley had decided that instead of her going all the way back home to France, it was the perfect opportunity for the Weasleys to get to know Fleur._

 _Fleur had been extremely nervous about spending the week with her boyfriend's parents, especially when she had only met them a handful of times before. However, Mr and Mrs Weasley were extremely welcoming, and within a few hours, Fleur felt completely at home. With most of her children wither at school or work, the Burrow was fairly quiet, and it gave Fleur more time to get to know them._

" _Thank you so much for your kind 'ospitality, Monsieur Weasley," Fleur thanked politely over the dinner table. Mr Weasley had been taking a mouthful of cake as she spoke, and he had immediately flushed and choked, coughing and spraying crumbs everywhere. Mrs Weasley glared across the table at her husband._

" _Just call us Molly and Arthur, dear," she insisted, and Fleur smiled gratefully._

" _Surprise!" a voice called suddenly from the kitchen. "Mum? Dad?"_

" _Is that..." Mrs Weasley began, climbing up from the dining table and walking over to the kitchen. "It is! Oh, Arthur—Charlie's home!" Mrs Weasley started showering her son with kisses, while Arthur jumped to his feet._

" _Charlie, what a surprise!" he exclaimed. Both Arthur and Molly began to converse excitedly with Charlie, whilst Fleur remained sitting politely at the kitchen table, smiling up at the scene._

 _In honesty, her heart had done a small somersault when Charlie had walked into the kitchen. He was a tall, muscular man, with various burn scars marring the exposed skin. He was wearing khaki cropped trousers and a black, sleeveless t-shirt, which exposed the tattoo of a flickering red dragon on his upper arm. His scruffy red hair looked as though he constantly raked his hands through it, causing it to stick up in all angles. She felt her stomach flutter as his blue eyes landed on Fleur._

" _Oh, my apologies," Mrs Weasley said. "This is Bill's girlfriend, Charlie—"_

"— _Fleur Delacour," Charlie interrupted, and Fleur's lip shook. It sounded unusually nice when her name left his mouth. "Sorry," he stepped forward clumsily and reached for Fleur's hand, which she shook. "I met you_ — _well, I never actually_ met _you. I just saw you. During the Triwizard Tournament. You took on my Common Welsh Green."_

 _A smile spread slowly across Fleur's face. "_ Oui _. That dragon ruined my favourite skirt when I cast a sleeping charm on 'eet."_

" _Well, you still did a grand job."_

" _Sit down, Charlie," Mrs Weasley ushered, pulling out another seat besides Fleur for Charlie to sit on. "Arthur and I will go get some more tea_ — _come on, Arthur!" she dragged Mr Weasley into the kitchen, leaving Fleur alone with Charlie._

 _They said little else to each other, but Fleur had the feeling that Charlie desperately wanted to say more to her. Beneath the table, his knee was brushing innocently against hers, and Fleur felt as though all the blood in her body was rushing to that one area where their skin met._

oOo

"I 'ave to go," Fleur muttered, trying to shake the memory out of her mind. She pushed past Charlie and headed into the kitchen, but he followed her. Before she reached the door, he rushed forward and ducked in front of her, blocking the exit. "Please, let me leave."

"You can leave him, you know," Charlie said suddenly, his blue eyes boring into hers. "You can leave him and we can run away to Romania together. Or back to your home in France—anywhere you want."

Fleur laughed crudely. "What makes you think 'zat I want to leave my 'usband, Charlie?" she trying to shove him out of her way, but he stood as still as a statue. "Move out of my way. I will curse you." Her face was flush red as she tried to avoid eye contact with him.

"No you won't," he replied quietly. "Fleur," he spoke as she continued to try and push past him. "Fleur, stop. Just stop a minute!" he grabbed her by the upper arms, and she looked up at him. Tears were filling her pale eyes. "I want you, Fleur."

"Oh, _merde_ ," Fleur hissed, and she pushed her head forward, forcing her lips to meet his. He let go of her arms and threaded his fingers through her hair instead, returning her kiss passionately. She pulled away moments later, and Charlie noticed that she was holding her wand. "I 'ave to go," she whispered, lipstick smeared around her mouth.

Before Charlie could respond, she had turned and vanished on the spot.

* * *

 **A.N:** Thanks to **Summer Leigh Wind** , **lokilette** , and **Nightmare Prince** for picking up on my SPaG :)


	3. Fire in Our Hearts

**Word Count:** 1,751  
 **Written For:  
** \- Diagon Alley: Quidditch Through the Ages (Chapter Three: The Game From Queerditch Marsh) Prompts used: (quote) Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. - A A Milne

* * *

 _ **Chapter Three  
**_ _ **Fire in Our Hearts**_

Fleur paced back and forth through the hallway of Shell Cottage, fidgeting with her fingernails. Her lip shuddered and her thoughts raced: today was the day that she was going to put an end to this madness.

Bill had been called away on an impromptu trip to Cairo, leaving Fleur alone at home for at least a week. Rather impulsively, she had made the decision to invite Charlie round for afternoon tea. She wanted to talk to him, and make sure that he understood that whatever was going on between them had to stop before it went too far.

It was risky, inviting him over to her marital home where they would be alone—but Fleur had no other choice. She couldn't bear the scandal that would no doubt emerge if anyone caught sight of Fleur Delacour out having tea with her husband's brother while he was working abroad. Ever since the recent demise of Voldemort, the public—in particular, Rita Skeeter—made a habit of keeping an annoyingly close eye on anyone closely related to the Golden Trio.

She could have gone to the Burrow to visit Charlie, but Mrs Weasley was far too curious to leave them alone. The other option was to visit Charlie in his bachelor flat in Diagon Alley, but that was even more dangerous. Fleur wanted to be where she was comfortable and and hold the position to demand that Charlie left her house if she had to.

It had been a couple of weeks since Fleur had last spoken to Charlie at the Burrow, and she had been doing all she could to put her brother-in-law behind her. Despite being quite confident that she was beginning to forget his face, she couldn't forget the steamy five minutes they had spent in the cupboard under the stairs.

Fleur paused her pacing as she passed the cupboard, and observed the door silently. It was difficult to imagine that she had actually shared a moment of passion with a man who wasn't her husband in that very spot.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump, and she dived away from the cupboard, hurrying towards the front door. As she did, she passed the mirror in the hallway and glanced at her reflection, patting her hair. She had done her best to try and make herself look as unattractive to Charlie as possible. He seemed to stare a lot more hungrily at her when she wore short skirts, so Fleur had opted for a knee length pencil skirt and dark pantihose, as well as flat, ugly shoes instead of her usual kitten heels. A long-sleeved blouse covered her upper half, buttoned up right to the neck. Charlie had shown an obvious interest in her usual favourite colours of periwinkle and soft blues, so Fleur had been sure to keep any shade of blue out of her outfit. She nodded at her bland reflection, feeling quite sure that he would be less than attracted to her in her current attire.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the front door and swung it open, forcing her lips into a strained smile. Standing in the glaring sunlight was Charlie, his hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans, longish hair raked back, and a lopsided grin on his face.

All of Fleur's defensive walls crumbled at the sight of Charlie. How could she convince herself that she had forgotten the alluring way he smirked, or the mischievous glimmer in his bright eyes? How could she promise that she was going to have the upper hand in this situation? She was already melting, and he hadn't even entered her house yet.

Charlie's eyes flickered up and down her body slowly, as he drank her in. When he finally made eye contact with her, his grin spread. "Nice try," he muttered, and sidestepped Fleur, walking down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Fleur stared at the spot where Charlie had been stood just moments before, her mouth hanging open. She shut the door slowly, and turned around to follow Charlie. _"Pardon?"_ Fleur exclaimed, walking into the kitchen. Charlie had already taken a seat at the counter island, where he was slumped back lazily.

"The get-up," he commented, gesturing to her outfit. "I know what you're trying to do, but it won't work. You would still look stunning in a bin liner."

Fleur pursed her lips tightly, choosing to ignore the compliment. How had Charlie managed to read her so easily? Was she really that predictable? Instead of replying to him, she walked behind the breakfast bar and turned her back to him, beginning to brew the tea.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

She turned around and placed the teapot in front of him, and reached underneath for two teacups and saucers. With a little flourish of her hand, she wandlessly summoned a plate full of finger-sandwiches from another spot in the kitchen, and they landed neatly in front of Charlie. "I think 'zat you 'ave a pretty good idea," she murmured as she poured tea into the cup in front of Charlie. When it was full, she proceeded to fill her own cup, but her hands were trembling. Tea sloshed into the saucer, and she quickly put the teacup down and stared into her cup.

She was afraid that if she looked up at Charlie, she might start crying. Or worse—she might _kiss_ him.

"We haven't _done_ anything," Charlie said quietly, and Fleur noticed that the jokey tone in that was usually present in his voice was gone; he was being serious. "All we we did was kiss—it was _nothing_."

Fleur's head snapped up, and her blue eyes pierced into the man opposite her. "Do you really believe 'zat?"

Charlie pressed his lips together carefully, and eventually shook his head, looking defeated. "No," he admitted. "Of course I don't."

Sighing, Fleur sat down on the other side of the counter, wrapping her hands around her teacup. "'Eet 'as to stop," she told him. "I _love_ my 'usband, Charlie. I made a sacred vow of marriage. I can't do 'zis to 'im." She looked up at Charlie, her lip wobbling.

"I understand," Charlie replied, and Fleur let out a breath that she didn't realise she had been holding.

"I wasn't expecting you to be so understanding."

"Bill is my brother," he continued, and Fleur noticed that he was picking his fingernails agitatedly. "You're the love of his life. It's _wrong_. I know that...I know that I act stupid sometimes, and like it doesn't really bother me...but it's just that I've liked you for so long, and I never thought that you would marry my _brother._ I suppose he just got to you first—and, Bill has always been the more desirable brother." Charlie paused to take a sip of his tea, and looked over at Fleur. "I've always liked you, but I'll never be right for you. You're a beautiful flower, and Bill is caring, attentive and calm, and he'll always take care of you. Me..." Charlie grinned into his teacup. "I'm impulsive and wild and sometimes even a little bit crazy. I'm a weed."

Fleur couldn't help but smile. Her nerves had calmed considerably, especially now that Charlie had opened up to her on such an emotional level. She was so used to his cocky nature and flirty mannerisms; it was difficult to imagine that he had a more sensitive side. "Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know 'zem."

Charlie drained the remainder of his tea, and stood up from his seat. "Thanks, Fleur," he grinned at her, and she felt her heart flutter sadly. "I'm going to go. I think—I think it's best if we just rip this bandage off. I'm sorry that this happened, Fleur."

Fleur stood up as Charlie began to walk down the hallway and followed him. They stopped by the front door, and Charlie turned back to look at her. "I'm sorry too," Fleur replied. "But at least we 'ave stopped this before it goes too far."

Charlie nodded, and pulled open the door, stepping into the doorway. "Well, I'll see you around."

Fleur smiled. The meeting had gone so well. Almost _too_ well.

Charlie's face seemed to shift as the smile spread across Fleur's face. His lips fell apart slightly, and his eyes softened. Suddenly, he didn't look so strong and mature. He looked as though he was suddenly being affected by her Veela heritage. Fleur bit her lip as the blood seemed to pump faster through her veins.

Charlie rushed back over the threshold in a blur, and Fleur's arms wound around his neck. He pushed her back against the door, closing it in the process, and captured her lips in his, kissing her hotly. She whined into his mouth, feeling her body involuntarily pressing against him as his hands dropped to her hips, his fingers digging hungrily into the flesh of her bottom. He lifted her from the ground, pressing her against the closed front door, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Fleur's head rolled back against the door as Charlie attacked her neck with his mouth, trailing kisses on every inch of her exposed skin. He grasped at the collar of her shirt with one hand and tried to unfasten the stiff buttons, to no avail. Eventually, he dug his fingers into a gap in her shirt, tearing it open impatiently. He nuzzled his face into the rift of her chest in appreciation, and she gasped.

"Upstairs," she breathed, and Charlie nodded into her cleavage. His grip tightened on her body, and he proceeded to make his way up the stairs, kissing her as he did so. When he reached the nearest bedroom, he pushed their combined weight against it, and they collapsed onto the bed.

Charlie broke the kiss momentarily and stared down at the woman beneath him. Fleur was red-cheeked and her eyes were bright, and her hair was falling out of it's up-do, fanning around her head. "If we do this," he whispered hotly, his eyes boring into hers. "We can't come back from it."

Fleur was silent for a moment, as she gently traced circles on his bicep. "Just..." she murmured, as Charlie's mouth advanced upon hers once again. "Just do not talk." His lips crashed against hers, and Fleur closed her eyes, allowing herself to be sucked into Charlie.


End file.
